


i have loved you since we were eighteen.

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: SKAM [1]
Category: SKAM (Norway), SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: Future fic AU, I'm bipolar too please don't yell at me that my depiction is wrong, M/M, proposal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: In the dark cast of the kitchen, the only source giving off a semblance of light is the closeted curve of the lights above the sink, casting moonlight-like splashes of silver over the grey tiles of their floor. Isak would dare to bet that they would be cold on bare feet but with woolen socks to protect his own feet and Even's immortal euphoric episode, neither of the boys feel it either.





	i have loved you since we were eighteen.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hi so disclaimer: I don't know if Even's manic euphoric episodes are perfectly in character as they advance differently for everyone but I am bipolar too so I hope that makes everyone feel a bit better about me writing Even in this. Also I am in no means trying to romanticise Even's condition (or villainise it?) but this piece just worked best set then, I guess? Anyways, please enjoy!

In the dark cast of the kitchen, the only source giving off a semblance of light is the closeted curve of the lights above the sink, casting moonlight-like splashes of silver over the grey tiles of their floor. Isak would dare to bet that they would be cold on bare feet but with woolen socks to protect his own feet and Even's immortal euphoric episode, neither of the boys feel it either.   
  
There is still something so magnetic and heady about being here in Even's arms, something that feels new and fulfilling, and exciting even after all of these years.   
  
Isak can remember the days that he wouldn't even let Even touch him on the street out of fear of being seen, of others knowing - he hates that somedays it still gets to him, that somedays he will pull his hand out of Even's when they get yelled at or if an old women with hair the colour of the light pouring on their kitchen floor, stares too long. He hates that part of himself but he knows it is there, stitched into his seams is the little religious boy who was always preached to not to touch, don't touch him - but here, in this kitchen, as the dotted lines make up the numbers 00:21, Isak feels it.   
  
Feels Even's euphoric high, feels that unstoppable feeling and as they shuffle awkwardly but in a way that feels like recalling the best way to maneuver puzzle pieces on a puzzle that you haven't done since you were a child. They fight together well, like the stars outside of the windows nearby, had crafted them together and then pulled them apart, placing them in different places of Oslo, like time and space would keep them apart.   
  
He smiled, tiers folding into a wide grin when he recognises the soft but purposefully bad stagewhisper of the lyrics to the song humming about from Even.   
  
_"We took a chance_  
 _God knows we tried_  
 _Yet all along, I knew we’d be fine_  
  
_So pour me a drink oh love,_  
 _Let’s split the night wide open and we’ll see everything_  
 _We can live in love in slow motion, motion, motion_  
  
_So kiss me where I lay down_  
 _My hands press to your cheeks_  
 _A long way from the playground."_   
  
He listens to Even, to the deep chords of his voice mixing with the steady sway of high vocals of some outrageous American boyband all of the girls used to be obsessed with. Part of Isak hates how easy it is to see the charm of those boys but with Even's hand hot and sweet, and easy on his waist, he can't help but feel nothing for anyone other than Even.   
  
"Even?" His voice is soft and he asks it out loud to both snap him out of his own thoughts and so Even would stop singing - not that he doesn't enjoy Even's singing, no, in no way is it for that reason. It's because in one hundred lifetimes, Isak could get caught in Even's voice and stay there to listen to the sweet honey tones pour over songs that really don't deserve the dignity.   
  
"Baby?" Even asks back and he pulls away from where the fabric of Isak's nightshirt   
\- Even's old sweatshirt - had been pressed to his chin so he can arch perfectly sculpted eyebrows at his lover.   
  
"Why?" His thoughts catch up to him and quickly, he is drowning in questions. "Why had you stayed? ...Then, when we were so young?"   
  
Even's smile is set to rival the moonlight pouring in from the windows, or the deep curved bulb above the sink, or the elderly women's hair on the street corner, "In our thousands of lifetimes, there have been hundreds where I have been impatient with you and we fall apart, hundreds where I waited and we did it perfectly...like this. There are a handful where I didn't wait, where I tried to find love with someone else and in those plans, had fallen apart completely. No one was crafted for me but you. In a thousand lifetimes, it has always been you and in some, you just have to wait a bit."   
  
Isak has to swallow back tears, heart racing in his chest as though it's going to leap out before he chokes out, "Just kiss me, you fucking poet."   


* * *

  
One kiss turns into two, two into three, three and four into longer and more lingering kisses that hold more heart. They end up in the bedroom in a blur of time, tripping over furniture shapes of their home in the dark as neither of them dares to separate their lips from one another for long enough to guide them safely through the house. Isak's lips find a home in Even's, in the soft curve betwen his lips, in the bridge of his top lip meeting the soft skin of his bottom, Isak's lips build a home there.   
  
Their sex isn't out of a dirty need or some erratic teenage boy groping as it had once been, had once been the art of throwing white shirts across rooms and slamming each other into doors. No, instead this is all gentle shuffling and large hands burning marks into the curve of Isak's spine as they kiss, all passion and open mouth that have found how to fit together like puzzle pieces.

* * *

  
The clock will read 01:21 by the time they have both been tucked away into a bed that has long since been claimed as theirs and sleep will have long since whisked away the younger blonde into a world of dreams with only slightly brighter hues than the one he currently lives in.   
  
Even's lips are gentle when they settle against the pale curve of Isak's shoulder and as he murmurs softly to his beautifully unaware boyfriend, he trails long digits over the array of freckles covering Isak's thigh, a dark brown freckle spattering up to his hip from his midthigh.   
  
Where Isak's brows have unfurled with sleep, lips parted slightly as he takes in small breaths, Even knows he could just watch Isak sleep, listen to the slow putter of his heart and the dips in his chest as he takes air in and then displaces it for more. But he doesn't, his mouth a murmuring admittance of everything in that way he can't help but be when maniac.   
  
"I love you...I always have. Had seen you at school that first day, you had been shouting at your phone and I had been stalted..." he breathes a laugh, thinking back to how he had fallen almost instantly just from that first impression. "...shocked that I could think someone so beautiful when mad....but you were.... you are... I had fallen for you that day; you had been so many hues in a world of mine that had been monotonous greys, and blacks, and whites. You had been colour and I had needed you, had poured every single thing I had felt when I had saw you in that moment into my artbook that night... you had always been colour in my monochrome life.... and god, how addicting your colour is and how addicting you are...I had fallen for you so badly, and everyday, every kiss, every touch, every time I see you, I fall for you all over again."   
  
Even breathes a deep sigh against his neck, unsure of how to make out the next words and feeling nervous despite the unconsciousness of the man curled in his arms, "Isak Valtersen...Will you marry me?"   
  
He doesn't expect a response and he doesn't receive one but that is okay. Its just practice...for now.   


* * *

4 months later on Isak's 24th birthday, Even will duck beside the table, taking a hand too small and soft but so sweet into his own as he recites the words he had murmured previous into an unconscious boy's shoulder.   
  
"Isak Valtersen....I love you so much and if you will let me, I will love you forever... Will you marry me?"   
  
Emerald eyes brimming with unshed tears, Isak replies in a jerky and obviously still shocked nod before he more or less throws himself into Even's arms.   
  
"Yes, of course!" Isak shifts his tone, reminding himself of the restaurant around them but the cheers the combined girl and boy squads' release are too much to reign in.   
  
Isak's tiers press to Even in a solid gesture, something to make this clear: this is them. This is them, about to get married.   
  
As they separate from their chaste but solidifying peck, Isak breathes like it is the first time, "I love you..."   
  
"I love you too...forever."   
  
Even is uncertain if he imagines the hum of a long since overshadowed boyband in the back of the restaurant,   
  
_"To be loved and to be in love_  
 _And all I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you_  
 _And I want a love like you made me feel_  
 _When we were 18_  
 _I want a love like you made me feel_  
 _When we were 18_  
 _I want a love like you made me feel_  
  
_When we were 18."_  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Be nice and please comment!


End file.
